So Much Jose Beyond "Feliz Navidad"
Appreciating the vast and varied catalog of Jose Feliciano
What algorithmic widget determines heavy rotation for holiday songs?
Normally I complain about endless encounters with the same handful of chestnuts – the overworked “Santa Baby” parade, the tyrannical loop of Burl Ives’ “A Holly Jolly Christmas,” the temperatureless modern takes on “White Christmas.”
No grumbles this year, not yet. Because, inexplicably, the shuffle-play gods have rediscovered Jose Feliciano’s “Feliz Navidad.” So far I’ve encountered it in grocery stores and little boutiques and big malls, on the radio and in the dentist’s office. Seems to work everywhere; I’m happy every time I hear it. The passionate (effortlessly bi-lingual) vocals. The pulsating anchor of rhythm guitar. The Tijuana Brass-style horns providing snazzy trimming. Simple and heartfelt, the 1970 original functions as an instant mood-enhancing elixir: Take this at the first sign of grinch-like symptoms.
Thing is, that advice holds for an astonishing number of Feliciano recordings, even his too-easily-derided “Light My Fire.” I’d argue that Feliciano – whose live sets in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s included soul and blues classics, Cole Porter tunes, bluegrass, and hits by the Beatles – is among the most slept-on talents of the rock era. Just look at that set list.
An “entertainer” in the Las Vegas usage of the term, Feliciano can come across as warm and romantic, a master of the ballad and the bolero. But listen beyond his steel-tipped voice, and you encounter a guitarist who plays with an almost superhuman rhythmic precision – yet he’s also in command of the technical facility necessary to execute Segovia-like trills and flourishes. Feliciano interprets a wide range of music and nails the specific performance traits associated with each – check his crisp samba patterns on the “Black Orpheus” medley from the 1969 gem Alive Alive-O – but never appears out of his element. He sells standards like an adjunct member of the Rat Pack, then renders an impossible-to-cover song like “A Day In the Life” with the intensity and vitality (and respect) the crooners never summoned when covering the Beatles.
Today’s playlist celebrates a few slivers of brilliance among many in Feliciano’s discography. Don’t sleep on him! Because even though the world knows him as the “Feliz Navidad” dude, he could just as easily be the “Hi-Heel Sneakers” dude.
